Attack On Titan One Shots
by Mimic Your Nightmares
Summary: A collection of one-shots- that's basically it. A lot of Jearmin because I went through a time where that was all I could think about. Rated M for some language, and who knows what else could happen in this.
1. Balance (1)

Rating: PG Genre: Angst, Feels Pairing: Jean and Armin World: Slight AU

Jean took another gulp from the canteen Pixis had lent him, full of a strong, numbing vodka. The size of the container would be more than enough of a morphine on any other occasion. _Any other one_. His brain got hazy, like the brim of his eyes as tears made themselves known. _Any other one._ He repeated, clenching his jaw and squeezing the tears out of his eyes.

He and Armin had promised that if anything were to happen to the other, they wouldn't give into mind-altering things like alcohol or drugs. They would - and could - keep composed. Jean could almost taste the promise on his lips once again as he remembered their conversation. He thought he had found a Marco in Armin. The two kept each other stable, in working condition.

Balanced.

They were a scale, being sure to support the other's weight and burdens when they needed it. Neither would let the other hurt. But when one of the sources of pressure is taken away, you hit the ground. Hard. Just as Jean had.

Through his foggy mind, he heard the snap of Armin's spine, the look in the blond's eyes as he searched blindly for the familiar color of Jean's. The feeling of failure. His heart breaking once again because he couldn't save the person who saved him so many times before. The sound of the wind whistling through his ears as he shot towards Armin, and then the feeling of his knees growing weak as he saw Armin's mangled body laying on the ground. The joints gave, and he fell to the ground, resting his forehead on Armin's bloody chest, sobbing into it.

He didn't care about the others fighting the titan that killed Armin, what they'd think, or how close he was to dying himself. All that mattered in this moment was the exasperate pounding of his heart and mind as he clutched the blond to him. He felt useless. Like garbage. He wasn't there for Armin like he was there for him.

Jean came back to himself, head throbbing from the tranquilizer in his right hand. He took another swig from it, and then leaned his head back on the headboard of his top bunk. Armin used to be on the other side of the small wall, and they would talk quietly through the opening between the two beds in the secrecy of the night. But now it was just the ghost of a broken promise and the morose knowledge that a dead boy was sleeping there just nights ago.

Shoving his face into a pillow to keep the sound of his sadness mute, he let out thick sobs. Sobs he had been holding back for so many hours and seconds, trying his best to keep himself together. But what's the point when the one thing keeping you whole has been broken themselves?


	2. Babysitting (2)

Rating: PG Genre: Fluff Pairing: Eren/Rivaille Armin/Christa World: AU, AU, AU A/N: His name is Jacques, I'm sorry. I was going to keep him nameless but I couldn't, sorry.

Only minutes after his father had left him in the arms of the short raven-haired man, the small one year old boy, an exact replica of his father - or mother? - started screaming. Levi's eyes widened as he gripped the toddler tighter in his arms, making sure the small blond wouldn't slip out of his grip.

"Well," Levi huffed as he struggled to calm the child down. "For an Arlert, you're sure _fiesty_,"

The boy screamed in reply, causing Levi to flinch. "Daddy-" He forced the word out for the boy, it being uncomfortable to call his friend 'Dad'. "Will be back soon. In the meantime..." He adjusted his grip, the wail of the boy increasingly getting louder.

Armin had specifically told Levi _not _to give his son any kind of fruit snacks, because once the child got a taste of them, he was determined to get the entire box into his stomach. And though he had only been at the Rivaille household for about 15 minutes, it was time to bring out the big guns. If anyone knew when the heavy weaponry needed to be taken out, it was Levi, having been a corporal in the military when we was younger.

Arms growing tired of carrying the boy, he set him down on the toddler, whose chubby feet clapped over the linoleum floors of the kitchen feverishly, his mouth still wailing in distress. Levi was impressed that he could sense Levi's sudden change in aura so quickly. Then, walking to cupboard, the small boys large, blue eyes looked up curiously to the dark haired man. The child's ear picked up the crinkling of wrappers and he instantly perked up, wobbling towards Levi, tugging on his light blue jeans.

"Here," Levi started opening the small package, "now be quiet and-"

The boy screamed with excitment, jumping up and down on the floor, his baby overalls bouncing with him. The older one smiled lightly, and then crouched down so he was face-to-face with the boy. Jacques, the child, started clawing at Levi's closed hand, knowing that his treat was in them.

_Like a dog._ Levi thought, amused at Jacques's deperate prying of the older man's caloused fingers. Lifting up the closed hand experimentally, he watched as the toddler went up on his tip toes, reaching, determined to get the snack.

Then he stood up, Jacques's focused eyes still on the hand. Levi walked around the two-bedroom house, going in and out of rooms, dropping the chewy treats on side tables. He would stop and watch the boy eat them, making sure he didn't choke on them, and then would continue into the next room.

While in the living room, leading the blond around, Eren opened the door, getting a quick glance from Jacques, who disregarded him almost immediately. "L-Levi," Eren began, furrowing his eyebrows. "What are you doing to him?"

Levi stood up, keeping the hand with a few fruit snacks left in it clutched to his side, the boy still trying to rip his hands open. "Playing,"

Eren frowned. "More like manipulating," Then he turned towards Jacques, a smile forming on the edge of his lips. He crouched down, holding his arms open. "Jack! Come 'ere!"

He turned quickly, having heard Eren's voice. Jacques ran over to Eren, whom he liked _much _more than Levi, even with the treats. Eren sat down cross-legged, bear-hugging the small boy, who had forgotten about the snacks Levi had, and was laughing with the tickles Eren gave.

The black haired man chuckled as Eren rolled onto his back, lifting up his knees putting Jaques on top of them. Jaques giggling the whole time. "Oi, Eren," Levi said, getting the attention of the brunet, looking at the couple of snacks in his hand. "Eren, maybe we should get one,"

Eren turned his head to look at Levi, still laying on the floor. "One what?"

Levi nodded his head to the boy on Eren's knees. "One of those,"

"A baby?" Eren asked, almost sounding disgusted. Nodding his confirmation, Eren continued. "You can barely handle Jacques without teasing him with fruit snacks to see what he'll do, what would you do to a kid of your own?"

Levi blinked, watching as the young boy squirmed just as he had earlier that day, after Armin left, from the lack of attention. He watched as Eren brought his mouth up to one of the boy's chubby cheeks, and motor-boating the baby fat, making an eruption of laughs come from the small boy, and a few escaping the green-eyed man himself.

"I would be able to watch you like this everyday," Levi explained. "It's cute,"

Eren rolled his eyes. "Would you be able to keep your language to yourself? I wouldn't want our child to get a foul mouth from being around you too much, me working almost everyday,"

He liked the way his lover said 'our'. It made everything seem more official. Crossing his arms, Levi gave Eren a cold glare. "You aren't any better,"

But the smile Eren gave Levi next melted the glare. "We'll talk later,"

Eventually, Levi gave the small boy the next few fruit snacks. He must be in heaven, Levi thought. Eren giving him all this attention and himself feeding him off-limit-at-home food. After this, Jacques shouldn't be afraid of coming to their house anymore. Hell, maybe he would be scared of leaving.

Then, after a few hours of time playing with Jaques, there was a knock on the door, and Levi opened it to find a petite, delicate blonde girl at the door. Christa. When Jacques heard his mother's voice, he shot up, and ran over to her. Christa laughed as she lifted the boy up, resting him on one hip.

"I got done with work early," Christa explained. "I'll thought it would be best to pick him up now. You're probably sick of him. I'll tell Armin I picked him up,"

Levi shook his head and looked down at the girl. Her arms must be like rock from carrying the boy around, her being so tiny herself. "You should've kept the next couple of hours to yourself,"

Christa shrugged, and Eren walked up the door next to Levi. "It's too late now. Thanks for watching him, Armin and I really appreciate it."

After they bid their goodbyes and Christa was out the driveway, Jacques safely clicked into the carseat, Eren turned his attention to the other man. Levi slammed the door shut, resting his forearm on the door, leaning on it, and then raised his eyebrows.

"So about that baby," Levi started, and Eren laughed.

"We'll see."


	3. Combat (3)

Rating: PG

Genre: Talky, Cute. Idk I'm bad at this

Pairing: Uhh, Bertholdt and Annie. Mostly about Bertie's crush on her.

World: Normal, Canon. Everything's the same

Bertholdt and Reiner were outside under the sun with the other trainees, sweat dripping from their faces as they practiced their hand-to-hand combat. Reiner swung a right hand punch up to Bertholdt's jaw, but the taller of the two grabbed the hand before it could make contact, and swung it back down; the blond falling to the ground.

"Good," Reiner panted. "Good job, Bertie,"

He gave an awkward, lopsided grin and wiped sweat off of his forehead. The brunet scanned the other trainees as Reiner stood up, brushing dirt off of his pants. Bertholdt made eye contact with the short blonde girl, his olive eyes locking to her ice ones. She raised an eyebrow at him, looking impressed. His cheeks flushed, and he turned back to Reiner, who had just witnessed the exchange.

"Leonhart?" Reiner looked up at his friend, an air of amusement in his voice. Bertholdt could feel all of the blood in his body rush up to his face. He was terrible when it came to blushing, and he was hoping the heat of the afternoon would be an excuse to the color.

Reiner chortled, "Annie, eh? Why don't you go fight her?"

Bertholdt scratched his arm and mumbled, "Is that really the way to attract a girl, Reiner?"

The blond rolled his eyes impatiently. "I wouldn't know. Come on, let's practice."

They got into their starting positions and started dodging and throwing punches and kicks. Reiner stayed focused on the boy in front of him, but Bertholdt's eyes would glance to the blonde, who never seemed to be looking at him, occassionally.

"Bertholdt-" Reiner grunted, pulking his right leg up and around to kick the said boy in the gut. The sudden catch of the brunet's attention jerked his body enough to escape the kick, but just barely. "Stay focused,"

He nodded and pounded out a few more punches and kicks. "Hey-" Kick. "Reiner-" Dodge. "Do you think I'd" A whoosh of a foot by Bertholdt's ear as he ducked. "Actually have a chance?" He got a kick square in the chest and fell down to the ground, head first. He groaned as he sat up, rubbing the back of his skull where he made impact.

Reiner shrugged. "Ask her,"

"Ask her wha-" But Bertholdt was cut off as Annie walked up to the two of them. Bertholdt, still sitting on the ground, shook his hair nervously. His cheeks started to burn just by her being near.

"Why are we practicing hand-to-hand? Will we be having a punching match with a Titan?" Annie sighed, shifting her weight to one foot.

Reiner chuckled. "Maybe us,"

"R-reiner!" Bertholdt exclaimed, surprised that the boy had implied what he had.

Annie laughed quickly, and Bertholdt clamped his jaw shut, wanting to listen to the laugh. "Maybe us," She agreed. "You did good, Reiner. You too, Bertholdt."

"Thanks," Bertholdt said, a sudden wave of courage washing over him. He is the Collosal Titan. If he can be that, then he can be a guy Annie could like. "We should fight sometime. You have an interesting technique."

Annie nodded. "Whenever you would like," Annie offered indifferently, brushing the compliment off without hesitation. "I should probably get back to Jaeger. Bye, boys."

Reiner looked to Bertholdt as soon as Annie was a good distsance away. "You're going to get pounded, Buddy."

Bertholdt sighed. "I'm going to need more practice."


	4. The Memory (4)

Rating: PG

Genre: Sad feelings ow

Pairing: Levi/Petra

World: It's pretty close to the AoT one.

Disclaimer: I don't own Mayday Parade's, The Memory. _

The day had finally come. The night before they had layed next to each other silently, just looking at each other and smiling. Levi's dark eyes were locked onto Petra's topaz ones for hours. Levi had been concerned over Petra's rash decision to get married, seeing as though she was barely in her twenties, but Ral persisted.

Mr. Ral was more than happy to see his only daughter finally find someone to marry. Levi remembered meeting him for the first time after their expedition to Zhiganshina. Her father was gentle and kind, just as Petra was, and Levi warmed up to the man quickly, to her delight.

Before long, it was the day of the wedding. It was a simple, short ceremony. There were flower petals and both the bride and the groom were dressed nicely; Levi wearing a white dress shirt and black pants, and Petra wearing a cream colored sundress, the one her mother wore on her own wedding day.

They exchanged promises of eternal love and a few kisses at one of the small churches scattered around the city. There were only a few guests, the members of their squad, Petra's family, and a few friends

Just as they were going in for the last kiss of the ceremony, Levi woke up with a jerk, clutching his blanket to his chest, breathing heavily. His eyes searched around in the dark, looking for someone who was not there. He took deeper breaths, trying to calm himself down. Tears worked themselves into the corners of his eyes. They were all dead, he reminded himself. He left them behind, as Titan fodder.

Levi curled himself into a ball on his bed, wondering why his mind would do that to him. It was such a lovely dream, but when he woke up it had turned into a horrible truth. There would never be a wedding. Levi wouldn't marry Petra and he would never be close to her father. There was no possible way to see her in her mother's wedding dress anymore.

Levi turned around in his bed, hoping that maybe the new position would change his dream. He fell asleep quickly, eager to get out of this harsh reality. But he found himself back in his dream with Petra, the only place left for them.


	5. Young Volcanoes (5)

Rating: PG

Genre: Bittersweet

Pairing: Jean/Mikasa

World: Slightly AU (an au where Jean got the booty)

Disclaimer: This one was really rushed, so don't expect too much out of it. I don't own Fall Out Boy's Young Volcanoes

Jean stood still in front of Mikasa. She gave him a cold glare, waiting for his response. Jean still couldn't believe it. Mikasa dumped him. Him! He was easily the hottest boy here, why would she leave him. For Levi?

Jean glanced towards the short man, yards to his left. Mikasa shook her head. "Jean, it's not because of Levi. It would just be better if we weren't...together."

A flash of pain shot through Jean's eyes. It hurt enough the first time. "Mikasa, can you do me a favor?" He waited for the curiousity to make itself known in her eyes before he continued. "Make this easier, for me, please. Tell me I never mattered to you."

Mikasa blinked. He wondered what was going on behind her dark eyes. "Jean, you meant nothing to me. And you never will."

Jean nodded sadly, looking at their feet. "Thank you, you really are great, Mikasa."

She nodded. "I know."

Connie bounded up to his friend, having just heard Mikasa tell everyone about their breakup. "Jean!"

The taller brunet glanced down at his friend's shaved head. "What is it, Connie?"

"Mikasa was telling everyone about your break up,"

Jean took a bite of his bread, hoping to take his mind off his broken heart. "And?"

"She said she never really enjoyed..." Connie trailed off as he saw anger flare in Jean's eyes.

He stood up, slamming his hands on the table. "What do you mean she didn't enjoy it?! Why was she talking about our se-"

"Jean!" Connie interupted, a flush spreading across his cheekbones. "Jean, not," He waited a bit to get the word out. "that. Just your entire relationship. She's saying she's glad she broke up with you."

He blinked and sat back down, people at the other table's giving him curious glances. "Oh. Well, I kind of told her to. I'm glad."

Connie's eyebrows furrowed. "Told her to break up with you?"

Jean sighed and shook his head. "No, to tell everyone."

"That's kinda dumb."

"I know." Jean murmered, looking over at the others gathered around Mikasa to hear the story of their break up. "But whatever. It makes it more real. Hurts less."

And with that, Connie shut up.


	6. Just Fine (6)

Rating: PG

Genre: Feelsy kind of

Pairing: Marco/Jean

World: Slight AU

"Jean!" Marco gasped, sitting up abrubtly. He looked over his friend's face for any kind of indication he was joking. "You're kidding...right?"

Jean's cold eyes met his friend's. "Marco. This is the only thing I can do."

"Don't you think joining the Trainee Squad is a little rash?" The freckled boy frowned. "And you'd be the only one fro-"

"Do it with me." The grass they were sitting on swayed lightly in the summer breeze. It was just after lunch, and the two came from the Bodt household after eating. Marco's mother was always happy and welcoming to Jean, in fact, to almost everybody. Jean was always welcome there.

The shorter of the two knew talking about the Trainee Squad would he hard on Marco. His father had died in one of the attacks on the Titans, and Marco was constantly worried Jean would join, knowing his bold nature. But Jean was his own person. He would listen to advice but he wouldn't take it, and he would listen to pleas but wouldn't accept them.

"J-Jean, you know my dad..." Marco began, uprooting grass from the ground.

Jean swivelled around so he would be face-to-face with his friend. "Do it for him. If you don't, you'll never live up to his name. And your dad is your role model, isn't he?"

Marco nodded feebly, taking the insults and sommer-saulting them in his head. Jean continued. "Be brave! Marco! You've been cooped up in this tiny place for too damn long. You aren't an animal."

Marco's sad eyes looked to Jean's fiery cognac ones. "Jean, we're barely fifteen. That would be throwing our life away."

Jean snarled. "And so what? You want to get married, have kids and then go run off and be brave like your dad did?"

Marco clenched his eyes closed. "Jean. Shut up."

"Not until you give me an answer. Marco, please."

Marco cracked his eyes open, and saw Jean's inches in front of his. He leaned his forehead onto his friends, to the other's surprise, and laughed, mostly from nerved. "Jean, I will. I won't let you go out there and be a hero on your own."

Jean grinned, and took his forhead from the other's. "This will be fun, I promise. You and I will be at the top of our game!"

Jean continued proclaiming things they would do, and Marco smiled along with him. He couldn't help but think, they were so young and so naïve. How did they know the appropriate time to give up their only life for a cause that has killed so many? And to throw it all away?

"So then, Jean," Marco began. "This is our last summer."

Jean blinked. "I guess so. What will your mom think about you going?"

He shrugged. "You know how she been suppportive, and she's said that whatever I want to do she'll be with me one-hundred percent. She won't be ecstatic, but still. What about your parents?"

"Hah, they'll hate me. But that's okay, I won't die. I'm too strong. And besides, I'm going to join the Military Police."

"Well, Jean, I want to be there with you through all of this. You and I will be okay."

Jean shook his head in amazement. "Bodt, you're something special."

He shook his head, laughing. "If I weren't there taking care of you, your parents would never forgive me. Besides, if I don't I'm only half a man compared to you. You're always showing me up!"

Jean laughed, joining in. "I guess you're right. We'll be just fine."


	7. Dance, Dance (7)

Rating: PG-13, Genre: Uhh, clubby, fluff. Y'know. Pairing: Jearmin World: AU

Disclaimer: I don't own Fall Out Boy's, Dance, Dance

"J-Jean," Armin stammered, getting out of the taller boy's cherry-colored Mitsubischi. "I'm not sure about this,"

Jean's sly eyes looked over to Armin with slight amusement. "Armin, you're here to hit on girls and let loose a bit, why do you think we came in the first place?"

Armin looked over Jean's clothing. He had a formal black shirt on, long-sleeved, and tight looking dark wash jeans on, with dark, shiny dress shoes. Jean looked...sophisticated, in a ready-to-go kind of way. Then, as the taller boy lead them up to the club, Armin looked down at his own clothes. Jean had told him to dress in dark clothes, but the best he could do was a dark blue polo and some black jeans, with converse to match. He looked dull next to Jean.

When they entered the club, Armin could feel the beat of the electric music in his chest, and the scent of fancy alcohol in his nose. Did Jean really frequent _these_? Armin bit his lips, and followed Jean aimlessly as he headed towards the bar. The black lights were on, making the white chairs and bar top glow a radioactive-like color. Jean leaned up against the glowing counter, while Armin sat on the barstool provided. The brunet looked towards Armin, raising his eyebrows questioningly. Armin shrugged.

Jean waved his hand up, and the bartender came to get what he wanted. Armin could barely hear Jean's voice over the pounding music. "Two shots of Skyy," The man nodded and then proceeded to fill two small glasses that could only fill a sip of liquid with the 'Skyy'.

Then the bartender set the two glasses in front of the two, and Jean picked his up, turning to Armin. "To loosen you up a bit!" Jean explained as best he could using the least amount of words.

Armin tentatively picked his up. The sound of the electronica music made ripples in the clear looking liquid. Or it was his own nerves. He sniffed the water-looking 'Skyy', and wrinkled his nose.

But Jean already had the now empty glass on his lips, having downed it in one fluid motion. Jean smiled encouragingly, and then watched as Armin sipped from the small glass cautiously, and then spat it out as he took the tiniest drop on his tongue.

Jean rolled his eyes. "Just swallow it!"

Armin looked back down to the drink, and then did as he saw Jean do, tip the glass up with his head. He didn't let the Skyy spend too much time in his mouth before it was leaving a fiery trail down his throat. Coughing, he looked up to Jean, scared for his throat. Jean laughed and gestured to the glass of Coke he had ordered while waiting for Armin to finish his drink.

"It'll help!" Jean explained again, laughing. "Two more!" he directed the latter to the amused bartender.

The man behind the counter laughed along. "Sure thing, Jean. Just don't push this one too far," He said, pointing his thumb at the blond.

Once they had each downed another shot of the vodka, and Armin his Coke, Jean stood up straight and headed without explanation to the big crowd of people and music. Armin stood up, waved goodbye to the bartender, and then followed Jean. There were all kinds of attractive girls and sharp looking boys dancing together to the loud, booming music.

Jean walked boldly up to one girl, and started dancing really closely to her to the beat of the song. Armin didn't think they knew each other, but neither of them seemed to mind. Armin looked around to see what other people were doing, all of them dancing wildly either alone or with someone else.

Suddenly, the boy felt someone wrap their arm around his shoulder and chest, dancing behind him. He turned quickly, uncomfortable with the proximity of the stranger. She was too close for him to see her face, but he could smell the alcohol in her breath.

"Dance with me," She breathed into his ear, the distance between her lips and his ear narrow enough that she didn't need to yell.

Armin shuddered from the touch, and then looked at her. Jean _did _bring him here to meet some girls. And this w_as_ a girl. So what was the harm?

He grinned, nodded, and then started moving to the music, which wasn't very hard with the drink in his system helping him. The girl's eyes turned fierce, her dark makeup intensifying the look. She started dancing very close to him, and laughed at Armin's horrified expression, as he was suddenly brought back to what was happening outside of his fuzzy mind.

"Let me buy you a drink," She said, pulling Armin aside towards the bar.

Jean glanced periodically at his friend, making sure he didn't accidentally hook up with a stranger. Jean had made that mistake once before he decided he didn't like waking up naked in a stranger's house. He watched as Armin was pulled away and over to the bar, where he and a girl were laughing. At least he was having fun.

After about an hour, Jean started to get bored. He had danced with almost every girl in the building, and was beginning to feel a bit tired. He went and searched for Armin, and found him still sitting at the bar, the girl he was with earlier vanishing somewhere between now and last time he checked up on Armin.

"You ready to go?" Jean asked, and Armin jumped up immediately.

Laughing, Armin replied. "Are you sober enough to drive?"

Jean smiled in surprise. "Even drunk, you're still concerned about safety. Jeezes, kid."

Jean led the two back out again, Armin still laughing a bit. When they were halfway between the street and the car, Jean stopped the two. He placed both of his hands on the smaller boy's shoulders.

"Did that Skyy vodka taste a little _too _good?"

The blond stood up on his tiptoes, and whispered into Jean's ears. "Jean, nothing can taste better than your name on my tongue,"

Jean's face flushed. "Armin, you're really drunk,"

Armin rolled his eyes and giggled. "I'm _not _drunk!"

Jean nodded, and grasped his shorter friend's wrist and led him to the car. "_Yes_, you are."

"Jean!" Armin almost screamed, making Jean stop and turn quickly.

"What? What Armi-" He was interrupted by Armin's vodka-covered lips on his, and Armin's arms wrapped around his neck.

Armin released his grasp, and went back down on his flat feet, having to stand on his tip toes to reach the other boy's lips. "Jean I really, love you," Armin said wistfully, looking into Jean's eyes. Jean's cheeks reddened again, and Armin giggled at it.

Jean shook his head and laughed nervously. "Come on, I can't bring you home, not when you're this drunk, so you're going to stay at my house, okay?"

Armin got into the passenger's seat, and kept giggling to himself the short ride to Jean's apartment. Then, he hobbled up the stairs and into Jean's house once he unlocked the door. Jean sighed, and took of his shoes at the door as he watched Armin find his way to the bedroom, and collapse on the bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

Jean knew he couldn't sleep on the couch, being barely big enough for even the tiny Armin to fit in. Then, he decided sleeping in the same bed as Armin wouldn't be as bad as he's making it seem. Armin had enough common sense to know what happened. He went to Jean's drunk and passed out there.

Then, once he had put on some sweatpants, he crawled on top of the bed, shirtless. It was humid, and there wasn't air conditioning in the apartment. Jean made a mental note to invest in one.

Day came, and Jean slowly opened his eyes, to see Armin's calculating one's inches away. Jean blinked and then sat up, Armin doing the same. The blond sat cross-legged towards Jean on the queen mattress, and kept looking at Jean's face for any kind of emotion.

Jean glanced towards Armin, and then began to ask about the one thing on his mind since they got home. "Armin, I don't know if you remember, but last night, when you were drunk, you kind of said you loved me, and kissed me. I'm _pretty_ sure it was the drinks talking, but I'm just-"

And for the second time in the last 24 hours, Armin cut him off with a kiss. Jean gasped slightly, surprised by the taste of Armin on his lips. It was a sweet, chaste kiss. Armin pulled back, the apples of his cheeks a light pink. "J-Jean, I really do like you. A lot more than friends are supposed to like friends, and I'm sorry if you don't like me that-"

The tables turned, and Jean made Armin's breath cut off short as Jean's hands cradled Armin's face, and returned the kisses Armin had given Jean. "Shh. I do like you like that."

Armin smiled, and Jean right back at him.


	8. Black And White (8)

Rating: PG Genre: Fluff Pairing: Jean/Armin World: AU

Armin had always had a soft spot for the upright piano that was hidden in the back room of his apartment. Before his grandfather died, and he was still living with the old man, the piano was in the living room of the small house. Armin would play some classical pieces, which he would diligently practice, every day and then perform to the man, and would then receive a grand round of applause. It made him happy.

This particular day, Armin was working on Moonlight Sonata, one of his favorite pieces; his grandfather's also. He cautiously tapped the ivory keys, making sure he was pressing the right notes in the right order. The blonde was focused on the only thing important to him right now; the sound he was creating. He stopped briefly, wiping the sweat off of his hands onto his tan shorts, and then taking a deep breath. He would get it right this time.

"One, two, three, four," He breathed, and then began his gentle cavatina, his nimble fingers dancing across the keys of the old upright. Starting with a dark crescendo, he built up into a more intricate ensemble, as his left hand played the notes a beat later than his right, creating an eerie echo.

Jean, on the other hand, had just entered the apartment; with the spare key Armin had given him when Armin had rented the place. Closing the door gently behind him, Jean quietly entered, having heard the music. His eyebrows furrowed as we walked further into the residence, wondering where the sound was coming from. Jean set the keys down on the counter top, then wandered into the living room, the sound of the music growing subtly louder. Venturing deeper into the house, he turned to look at the door to the spare bedroom.

Then, as silently as possible, he opened the door, and saw Armin at work on an old oak instrument. Smiling, Jean kept quiet, not giving himself away so he could listen to the small blond play. He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, and the light grin still on his face. The song had depth. A back-story. It was something you needed to understand, before you could play it as Armin was.

The ensemble drew to a close, Armin pressing the right pedal to elongate the piece, adding what he liked to say, "drama". Finally, it ended, and Armin breathed out, able to relax. He laughed breathlessly to himself. He did well. Not as well as he had done on previous tries, but good. From behind him were small claps. Armin jumped, breathing in sharply and turning to see who was in his house.

"J-Jean, what are you doing here?" Armin asked, half relieved it was only Jean, and the other part being annoyance at his sudden entry.

Jean stood up from the doorway, and pointed at the piano. "When did you learn to play that?"

Armin blinked. "My grandfather taught me when I was younger,"

"I want to learn,"

"O-okay," The delicate boy scooted further down on the bench, making room for the taller one.

Jean sat down, squaring his shoulders as his younger mentor had. He looked to Armin, whose cheeks had flushed to a light pink. The brunet brushed the back of his right hand onto the pink flesh, making the color turn into a deep blush. Jean loved the color, especially when he was the one that caused it. Armin tried his best to ignore it, and stayed focused on the teaching.

"Well, er, first you should know the names of the keys," Armin began, he pointed out the names of the keys, starting from the lowest up to the highest, including the ebony sharps and flats. But throughout the explanation, Jean's cognac eyes stayed focused on the soulful, sea-blue eyes, fixed only on the keys in front of him.

Jean shook his head, "What was it you were playing?"

Armin began playing the first few notes of it slowly. "Moonlight Sonata, it's by Beethoven,"

The taller boy grinned, looking at the younger boy lovingly. "You're so cute when you're being smart,"

The blonde's cheeks burned furiously again, he looked down at his piano, hoping to hide the color now taking up the majority of his face, "It's not being smart, it's common sense,"

Jean pecked the top of Armin's head. "Well you're cute constantly," Jean murmured into his hair, "so all of this must be you being smart,"

Armin ducked his head further, "It's not really like that, it's like how a square is a rectangle, and a rectangle isn't-"

The boy interrupted him with a quick kiss to the lips. "You're not a shape. You're Armin. The logic is different. Now, teach me this piano thing."


	9. Boots (9)

Rating: T

Genre: Sad owwies

Pairing: Jean and Marco

World: Slight AU

Jean had requested they send something of Marco's back home to his parents. It would be better that than to lie and say he was missing in action. He was dead, not hiding in a building scared to death about being eaten by a Titan. He already had been, partially.

Marco told Jean tons of stories about his parents and siblings. His parent's kindness and gentle attitude had been inherited by Marco. The freckles came from his dad. His two younger brothers were like miniature Marcos, smart, strategic, and unbelievably affectionate towards their friends.

They would be heart broken when they found out, Jean thought. Devastated. His brother's would be shielded for the rest of their lives. Or maybe not, Marco told his mother as an open woman, wanting people to learn from mistakes instead of hiding them. But either way, they probably would join anyway, to make their brother proud.

Jean knew roughly where Marco's family lived. They were allowed to see their family once throughout the course of training. His mother would be furious with him, but Marco's mother needed her son more than Jean's needed him. Family wasn't told they died until weeks after it happened. They probably thought Marco was eating breakfast right now, getting ready for training. But he was burned to a crisp, his ashed mixed with unknown bodies and charred clothing.

Jean came up to the door. He clutched his satchel tightly to his side, and knocked the door. He heard the rustling of Marco's siblings in excitement inside. He clenched his jaw. They thought he was Marco. When his mother or father would open the door and see Jean's face instead of Marco's, they would know.

His heart stopped as the door opened. A woman his height, with dark brown hair and eyes, and cream skin opened the door. He looked exactly like Marco. The woman blinked, and nodded her head curtly looking at the ground. "Come in," She murmered, moving aside for Jean to enter.

The little Marco's watched him from the floor. They looked around six and ten, and what Jean imagined Marco would've looked like at that age. His heart squeezed. "Um," Jean began. "I'm Jean Kirschtein."

His mother nodded. "He's written to us about you. Continue." Written? Marco told his family about him?

"I w-" Was or am? "IMarco'sfriend," He spit out. He may have sounded like a four year old, but it was better than breaking her heart so abruptly.

She smiled. He'd have to do it sometime. She must know something's wrong if he's here instead of her son. "Uh, Mrs. Bodt. Marco..." He clenched his jaw tighter, looking her in the eyes, not breaking away.

Her eyes shot with the pain of understanding for a moment, and then turned to her kids. "Why don't you go see what Papa is doing, eh? He could use the help."

They left, still shooting curious glances at Jean. But soon, he and Marco's mother were alone. "Marco was killed. Around a week ago. He really loved you guys and he tol-" He began rushing towards the end, trying to make up for the news.

"Shh. How did he die?" She said, looking at her fingers knotted in her apron.

"N-no one is certain, Ma'am. We found him," He took a breathe. "half eaten."

A squeak of pain shot from her mouth. "Thank you for coming here and telling us this instead of going to your own home." She mumbled. "So he won't be here ever again. There's no way he's still alive?"

Jean shook his head. "I have his boot, if you'd like." He moved the bag in front of his torso, and pulled out a brown leather boot. It was folded gently, and it smelled of greese and dirt. But it was Marco's, nontheless.

She took the boot gingerly. "Thank you so much," She choked out. "You're a saint. Go home. Tell your parents you love them. Please."

Jean saw the tears in her eyes. She was being very composed, keeping herself calm. The teen's eyes became wet as well, and nodded. "I will. The best wishes to you and your family, Mrs. Bodt."

She led him out the door, thanked him again, all with Marco's boot clutched to her chest. Jean looked down at the small cobblestone path Marco must've taken hundreds of times before. His feet and this ground would never meet again. Marco's family would never hug him again. Jean wouldn't have his rock.

Jean glanced up at the sky he and his friend had spent so much time admiring back when they hadn't been scarred with the reality of war on Titans. A tear rolled down his cheek. Dammit, Marco. You always complained about those boots, rubbing the blisters on your feet, and how you'd do anything to get rid of them. I don't think you meant like this.


End file.
